Putrid Thrones

Maggots crown your bleeding head Sewage scripture, the gospel of the dead Incense of rot, perfume of flies Your empire feasts on human cries You drink the pus of your divine decay Drowning in filth, you kneel and pray Beneath your silk, the veins explode Worshiping gods of rotting gold Your lungs collapse with every hymn Faith dissolves in your festering skin Blessed in bile, baptized in fear The sacred screams draw nearer here VOMIT THE SKY — DROWN IN YOUR WASTE! HOLY DISEASE — YOUR FLESH ERASED! Your halo drips with carrion dreams An angel’s corpse split at the seams Bowels of power spill the throne Your teeth grind glass, your name unknown The heavens rot, the saints decay You lick the wounds of judgment’s day Insects crawl through your sacred tongue Your crown corrodes — your hymn unsung The worms compose your final psalm Their choir hums your death so calm SUCK THE BLOOD FROM YOUR OWN EYES! FEAST ON THE STENCH THAT NEVER DIES! The filth ascends, the stars collapse Your bones will crack, your faith unwraps No kingdom left, just dripping flesh Your godly veins — a putrid mesh The throne corrodes, your crown is gone In sewage light, your dusk lives on Crawl through your crown of worms and teeth Heaven’s rot beneath your feet The sky now burns a septic hue Your bones play hymns the dead once knew Static prayers in the void’s embrace Blood eclipses the sacred face A thousand screams in sulfur rain Echo your end — forever in pain The light retracts — your faith erased The dirt consumes your godly taste Silence reigns — a kingdom gone The filth remains… and carries on